


there's a story there (just not a good one)

by fanflock



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Backstory, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Scars, Sharing Clothes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-22
Updated: 2016-11-22
Packaged: 2018-09-01 12:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8624344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fanflock/pseuds/fanflock
Summary: “For realsies though, I didn’t think you could get scars. What’s up with that?” Ah, so this was a conversation that was going to happen.“It... was from when I died.”





	

“That’s not going to fit me.” Kravitz gives a disdaining glance at Taako, and more specifically the shirt he’s holding up. He can already feel his circulation cutting off at the armpits. “I doubt that even fits you.”

“It’ll fit fine, my dude.” Taako waves him off. He dances his way around the bed, gracefully avoiding the piles of clothes and food and miscellanea that litter his floor. Kravitz doesn’t trust himself to move from the island of carpet he’s found, lest he put his foot in a errant bowl of ketchup again. “And I mean if it leaves a little midriff showing, who’s going to complain?”

“Ah,” Kravitz smiles. ”So that’s been your secret plan all along has it? Right after watching me undress and insulting my closet.” Taako scoffs, toeing through another pile of dubiously-clean clothes left on his floor.

“It’s hardly a secret. I want to see your hot reaper body bursting out of my clothes, lover boy,” he says plainly, relishing the blush he knows is hidden under the reaper’s dark skin. “Fixing your bland fashion sense is just a bonus.”

“Yes, I’m sure I’ll be even more terrifying dressed in sequins and feathers.” He picks up the cape draped across the dresser beside him, inspecting it. “And ambiguous food stains,” he adds, dropping it again.

“Sorry, were you meant to be scary?” Taako comments offhandedly, not bothering to hide his smirk. He reaches down and grabs a large lump of woven wool off the floor. “Though if you’re that fixed on being boring you could try this.” He holds the sweater out to him. “Stole it from Magnus. It’s certainly not going to do your shape any favours though.” Kravitz makes a face, and decidedly grabs the first shirt from him.

“No, I don’t think I’m quite at the point of wanting to wear your teammate’s clothing, thank you.”

“Well, that cuts out about half of my wardrobe,” Taako murmurs to himself, watching Kravitz hold the shirt up to his chest. It’s definitely going to be short on him, which is all the more reason to get it on him as soon as possible. Kravitz’s face is scrunching up in the cute way it does when he’s about to object to something, so Taako darts forward. “Let me help you with that.”

He stretches up on his tiptoes to kiss him, sweet and chaste but still enough to distract him while making quick work of the buttons of his dress shirt. Kravitz is starry eyed when he pulls away, like the sappy romantic he’s proven himself to be, and Taako grins back up at him. The elf’s eyes flicker down for a moment, and his expression falters into something else as they catch on the reaper’s chest.

“Yowza…” It takes Kravitz a moment and a glance himself before he realizes what he’s looking at.

The thick, discoloured scar marring his torso. One long line trailing from mid-chest to hips. It’s jagged and ugly, enough to make Kravitz pull his shirt back closed with a start. Taako stares up at him with wide eyes; Kravitz doesn’t meet his gaze.

“I’d forgotten about that,” he confesses. The elf raises an eyebrow.

“You forgot about that?”

“I don’t spend too much time shirtless in this body.” Taako hums, eyes wandering over what little skin was still visible.

“Someone oughta fix that,” he mutters to himself. A laugh bubbles up in Kravitz’s chest (along with no small amount of heat rising to his cheeks). “For realsies though, I didn’t think you could get scars. What’s up with that?” Ah, so this was a conversation that was going to happen.

“It... was from when I died.” Taako is quiet. He’s still staring.

“...weeeeeell? Don’t leave me hanging, kemosabe, sounds like there’s a story there.” There was, though he had been rather hoping not to tell it. They hadn’t gotten too personal with each other yet, emotions getting tangled and caught behind Taako’s guarded nature and his own professional detachment. Still, there was a part of him that wanted to push past that. Their first date, Taako had given him a glimpse, and he wanted to return the favour.

He clears his throat unnecessarily, a nervous tick. “Well... back when I was alive, I was a bard by trade-“

“A bard?!” Taako’s face splits into a disbelieving grin. “For real?”

“I did tell you I wanted to be a conductor,” he reminds him, but that’s not the train of thought Taako is on.

“Did you have an outfit and everything?” he asks, far too eager. Ah. Kravitz gives him a wry smile.

“I may or may not have worn some incredibly fanciful pantaloons in that portion of my life.” Taako laughs (cackles, really) and it’s infectious.

“Holy shit, my man, feeding me all this ‘suits only’ bull, you’ve been holding out on me!” The gleam in the elf’s eyes tells Kravitz he’s going to regret admitting that, but the flutter in his chest says he’s not going to mind it much. “So what happened here then?” Taako asks, dragging the conversation back with a single finger tracing his chest. “Tragic lute accident?”

“Ah, no.” Kravitz tries not to flinch at the touch. “Music isn’t always the most lucrative profession. I found myself in need of some coin one day while travelling, so I ended up taking a job from a wizard in Burnt Creek. Said he wanted an assistant for a spell he was trying.”

(The house was unassuming. A little out of town, but most homes in Burnt Creek were. He was growing lavender on the front porch, and his kitchen was decorated with kitschy painted porcelain.)

Taako catches his eye with a disbelieving stare. “My dude, I have the perception of a goldfish and even I could tell you that’s bad new bears right there.”

“In hindsight, yes,” (the scars on his fingers; a butcher by trade he said) “...but I was very hungry, and a fair bit dumber than I am now.” Taako’s smirk falters for a moment.

“Yeah, been there, done that,” he comments vaguely. Not giving Kravitz a moment to question, he presses on. “So this spell?”

(Strange smells, other men in the room, incense burning? Symbols on the walls that Kravitz couldn’t read. He’d never understood magic, but it reminded him of music; lots of symbols and sounds and wands conducting until you made something beautiful. He hummed to himself as the wizards talked in whispers.)

“Necromancy.” Taako made a soft ‘ah’ of realization. “I was to play a rather… central role in the process."

(The door was locked before he realized what was going on. The wizard’s face was blank, showing none of the warmth it had the day before when they’d made small talk; what’s your name, where are you from, how long are you away for, are you travelling alone...)

“I... don’t remember much-” (grabbing him, he was an elf too, small scar on his eyebrow, two piercings in his ear; the orc behind him laughed in soprano, his hands smelling like aniseed; the knife was small and ornate, flowers on the handle--) “-but such spells are never pretty.” Taako is quiet and still, finally seeming to pick up on the edge in his voice. He toys with the reaper’s shirt, pointedly running fingers over fabric now, not skin. Kravitz does the same to the t-shirt in his hands, sounding out an old tune in his head.

“Is that why she picked you?” he asks with a feigned casualness. “The Raven Queen? Cause you got all caught up in some necromancer’s business.”

“I’m… not sure,” he admits. “I’m definitely not the only one to meet their end that way.” Taako feels ready to bolt, and Kravitz honestly wouldn’t blame him. Too much, too open, too quick, it might be better to fake a call-

Instead, the wizard slides his hands up his neck to caress his jaw, quietly, somewhat comforting. “For what it’s worth,” his voice cracks a little. “I’m pretty thrilled that she picked you.” Taako gives him a lopsided smile, awkward attempt at reassurance throwing off his usual confidence. A smile blooms on Kravitz’s face. The sincerity warms him more than the actual result.

“Thank you,” he says, honestly. He forces himself to stop toying with the shirt he’s holding before he wears a hole in it. “Wasn’t I meant to be trying this on?” Taako relaxes immediately.

“Nice diversion, my man, way to change the topic.” He grabs another shirt from the floor, brushing away the layer of cheeto dust coating the surface. “Now, v necks are probably out of the question, which is a tragedy because those collarbones are doing everything for me right now,” (Kravitz laughs) “but we can workshop it.” He turns around as if in thought, just so happening to give the other man some privacy in the process. Kravitz is halfway into the tiny shirt when Taako talks again.

“Maybe I’ll steal some of Johan’s tights for next time.”

“Don’t push it.”

**Author's Note:**

> just thinking about Kravitz and possible sad backstories, but also, clothes sharing? The two things are very unrelated. (TAZ twitter is @pocketspa.)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [suddenly and from nothing at all](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9292139) by [akissontitan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/akissontitan/pseuds/akissontitan)




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